After the Wars
by 13tash07
Summary: The Time War had just ended, and the Doctor needs somewhere to rest and recover. The crew of Serenity need the money and the crew. Apologies for bad summary. Rated T just to be safe
1. An unusual appearance

Hello! This is my first fanfiction that I've published, and my first Firefly/Doctor Who. Also the first time I've played 9th Doctor. Basically, for him it's just after the Time War, and for the crew of Firefly it's just after Serenity. So, read, enjoy and review and tell me if it's worth going on

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><p>They'd lost Wash. It still hadn't quite sunk in. Mal still expected to walk in and see him piloting the ship, and still occasionally had to remind himself that it was River at the controls, not him. Still, he pretended like he'd moved on. His crew needed him, and he couldn't let emotions get in his way. Despite all they had uncovered at Miranda, it was still different to before the war. They were still harboring known fugitives, and there would still be people out to get them. Only now people would know what to look out for. The battle was hardly won, the war hardly over.<p>

Which is why the thrumming and whooshing of the TARDIS appearing was treated with suspicion, although with bits of curiosity mixed in. Still, when the Doctor pulled the door open, he saw a gun pointed at his face. Without a second's hesitation, he simply reached up and pulled the gun out of Mal's hands, throwing it aside.

"I've had enough of people with guns, thank you very much," he said, a cold hardness in his eyes that was slightly off-putting. Mal studied the man before him. He wore a black leather jacket, his hair shaved close to his head, black slacks and shoes finishing off the slightly menacing look.

"Well, I've had enough of people tryin' to kill me, but that doesn't seem to stop 'em," Mal replied. To his surprise, there was a hint of a smile playing across the man's lips. But before he could see if he was just hallucinating, the man suddenly spasmed, falling forwards out of the TARDIS, clutching his chest, gasping. He quickly recovered, straightening himself up. Mal watched him, not quite sure of what to think of him.

"I'm the Doctor, since you were kind enough to ask. And you are?"

The man had straightened up, and Mal was getting a feeling that he wasn't alliance. He couldn't help it; something in this man suggested that even if he wasn't a Browncoat, he would be more inclined to their side than the side of the Alliance. But he could be wrong.

"Captain Malcolm Renoylds. And what brings you to our ship? Quite an unusual entry, might I say."

The Doctor gave a tight-lipped, pained smile. "I'm running. Need a place to hide out. Me and my ship are both on our last legs. Don't know how much longer we'll hold out if we don' stop. Sorry to intrude, but the steerin's a bit off. Can't blame either of us, I suppose. Say, do you think I could stay here for a while? I have money. May take me a while to find, but there's some somewhere. Hang on," he told him, before he began to root in his pockets, pulling out some gold and some of the currency. "Will that be enough? I probably won't even stay the week."

Mal was staring at the strange man. With the amount he'd just given them, him and his crew wouldn't need a job for a year. Mal pocketed the money. "I'll have to tell my crew."

The Doctor nodded. "Do whatever."

The world was beginning to spin for him. His regeneration had been more violent that ever before. He probably shouldn't have survived. He doubted he would have if it weren't for the TARDIS. Even so, his body wasn't quite done, and it was likely that he'd have worse after effects than he had ever had. But that wasn't what was concerning him. What was really on him mind was the noise. Or lack of. Despite having severed links with his race, he had always had them comfortably brushing up against the edges of him mind. But now, there was nothing but silence. And it ached, a large hole, filled with guilt, pain and sorrow. As he watched Mal walk away, he couldn't help but see something in the other man. Something similar.


	2. A mutual Agreement

Mal called a meeting with the crew of his ship. They were all sitting there when he cleared his throat.

"We have a new job. Just a passenger and some cargo. Looks like something from Earth-That-Was. He payed well, and he doesn' seem to be much of a threat."

Jayne perked up at the 'payed well' bit, his eyes lighting up. "How well did he pay?"

Mal smiled slightly. "Enough to keep us surviving like this for two years and still have some left over."

Simon, however, looked less than pleased. "Who has that much money? How do we know that he's not some member of the Alliance?"

"He's safe. The man made of starlight, always running. It burns inside his head! So much rage, and passion and fury. So much pain and sorrow!" River cried out, running her hands through her head, crying out. To the entire crew's surprise, the Doctor came in at that moment. He didn't seem to notice anyone else apart from River.

"Shh. It's alright, little one. It's alright. It's just in my head. Don't go into my head, yea? It's not safe for anyone at the moment."

He was whispering, but the rest of the crew could hear him loud and clear. River looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

"It's burning! Burning and burning and burning. And the silence."

The frown on the Doctor's face deepened. He gently held her head in his hands, going into her own mind.

"Who did this to you? Opening up your mind, without putting up defenses. Here. This may hurt a little, River, but it'll be better in the long run," he said softly, gently erecting barriers around her psychic powers, teaching her how to use them, to open and close them like flood gates, to pull back. The rest of the crew watched, slightly concerned but afraid to pull the Doctor away. And River was perfectly calm in his hands, not like they'd expect from the young girl. When finally the Doctor opened his own weary eyes and stepped away, the girl was smiling.

"Thank you."

He simply nodded, looked drawn and tired. Well, more so than he had been. He gave the rest of the crew a sad smile, exhaustion written all over his face.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to go for a quick nap."

And with that he walked out of the room, silently and darkly, leaving the rest of the crew staring in his wake, apart from River. She had a look of awe on her face, opening and closing the door to her mind at will. It was in her control, which was something new.

"He did somethin' to the freak!" Jayne said. Kaylee gently smacked his shoulder, but she was also looking at River. "River, are you okay?"

River turned, smiled and nodded, in control.

"I say we keep him, even if it's just to keep an eye on him," Zoe announced. Mal nodded. "All for keeping him onboard?"

It was an almost mutual agreement.


	3. War Stories

The Doctor didn't sleep. He just sat in a half-meditating state, which was the time lord's equivalent. Sure, his kind could sleep if they forced themselves, but he was, truthfully, afraid of what sleep would bring. So he sat there, in his sleep-like mode, until he heard everyone go off to bed. For some reason, he couldn't resist getting out of his and walking around, up to the cockpit, which was covered in dinosaur models. Sitting in one of the chairs was Mal. The Doctor sat down in the other, gazing out at the stars, waiting to see if the other man would break the silence.

"I've been wonderin'... are you Alliance or Browncoat?"

It was a question that had been on everyone's minds; if he was trustworthy, which side he was on in this conflict, even though it's ended.

"Neither. Not my war," he told the other man, much to Mal's surprise. Most people, even those who hadn't fought in the war, had a side.

"Then what is your war? Because I know you've been in one. You have that look. The look of horror that you try to submerge, trying to compress the memories as much as possible, not wanting to open up."

The Doctor nodded in understanding. "It was a war you wouldn't have heard of. Not here. Shadow Proclamation states that no non-human lifeforms can come until it is fully established. But yea, I did fight in a war. Lead us into battle. I didn' have a choice. Us verses them, for the sake of all creation. And we won. Ha. If you could call that winning."

Mal studied the man. He didn't seem like a loony- quite the opposite- but his story was impossible. There was no battle for the sake of all reality, but this man said it like it was fact. And Mal found himself believing him.

"What happened?"

"My home burned. The whole of Gallifrey, the shining planet of the seven systems, gone in an instant. Took our enemies down, but dragged us along with them. No survivors, barring me. And I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for my ship. She knew exactly what I needed, how to push me into regeneration. Sometimes I think she should have just left me to burn with my people. We were telepathic - a bit like your River, but so much more powerful, more in control. Like she's a burning pillar of raw power, and we are it refined, in control, under our own command. I gave her some of that control. Before. Just because I was afraid she'd go into my mind and see stuff that nobody should ever have to see. What about you? I'm sure you have your own stories about the war between the browncoats and the alliance."

Mal nodded. "Plenty. We lost, as I'm sure you know. The battle at Serenity Valley, that's when everyone said we were loosing. We'd lost. That single battle that decided the outcome."

The Doctor nodded. "It's odd then, that you named your ship Serenity."

All night the two men told war stories, from two such different times. Mal didn't question the man being an alien, a thing that surprised himself. He supposed that he'd kind of guessed, with all that stuff with River.

"The worst part came at the end. You still have your crew of browncoats, old friends who've fought alongside you, who still trust your guidance. I've got nobody left. I led the most mighty race in the galaxy to their death, fighting tooth and claw beside them. Nobody is left, not a single soul. And all you can see and hear is the emptiness. Watching the fabric of reality ripping under your guidance, taking in your planet. The raw power of it, the eternal grandeur. And knowing that it would burn up the little of your soul that hasn't already been consumed. That is what the end was for me."

The pair of them lapsed into a comfortable silence that neither of them were willing to break.


End file.
